


Folk of the Swan

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Birthdays, Coming of Age, Ficlet Collection, Found Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: “Now Tuor loved swans, which he knew on the grey pools of Mithrim; and the swan moreover had been the token of Annael and his foster-folk.”
Relationships: Annael & Tuor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	1. Tuor & Annael + Holidays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazTheBard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazTheBard/gifts), [potatoesanddreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoesanddreams/gifts).



> New collection of ficlets, this time about Annael, Tuor, and the Grey-elves of Mithrim :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by JazTheBard’s request for “Tuo & Annael + Holidays” from this [Found Family prompt list](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/629184323680124929/found-family-prompts)!
> 
> I know fuck all about elvish holidays so instead of inventing one or god forbid, doing research, I tweaked this just a little bit to include birthdays.

“Annael, when is my begetting day?”

Annael paused in his carving. He looked to young Tuor, forcing a smile on his face. Oh, dear, he had been hoping to have this conversation with his fosterling at a later date. The boy was only seven years old, and while he was much more mature than an elven child would be at his age, Annael was fairly certain he was too young to be thinking about…begetting.

But then again, he wasn’t directly asking about where babies came from, but about his begetting day. About which, unfortunately, Annael knew as much as he did…which was to say, nothing at all.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and Tuor plopped down at his feet with a frown.

“It’s just—Nimphiel is having a party for her seventy-fifth begetting day,” he explained, “and I know I’m not invited because I’m too little and there will be drinking and stuff, but I was thinking, when it’s my begetting day maybe I could have a party? Except I don’t know when it is.”

Annael swallowed. “Um,” he began, “well, you are an Adan, and the Edain…work differently than the Eldar.”

“I know that.” Tuor rolled his eyes. “I know I’m the weird one! I’m the only mortal, and the only child, and none of you really know what to do with me…”

“We love you!” Annael hurried to reassure him. “We do, Tuor, we do, but—”

Tuor rested his chin on Annael’s knee, his blue eyes wide and trembling. “I know you love me,” he said in a small voice. “But I feel so lonely sometimes. I thought maybe a party would help, but…”

“It’s just…” Annael sighed, running a hand through Tuor’s golden curls. “When your mother fled into the wild and perished, seven years ago, you were just a baby. I don’t think you could’ve been much more than a week old. For elves…we celebrate not the day of our birth, as I am told is the mortal custom, but the day we were…conceived. Usually, however, that day is one and the same, with exactly one year betwixt them.”

“But it’s not for mortals,” Tuor guessed.

Annael spread his hands helplessly. “My folk and I have dealt with the Edain before, but never have we had cause to learn the lore of their conception. All that I know comes from your mother, and she told us only what was needed to aid us in her delivery of…of you. I do not think it is the same, for you do not create fae and rhaw in the manner we do, but…I cannot be sure. And if it is not the same, then I would not dare hazard a guess at the day of your begetting.”

“But you said the Edain celebrate our _birth_ day, not begetting day!” Tuor pointed out, his face stretching into a gap-toothed smile. (In the loss of baby teeth, at least, the two kindreds were the same; Annael could not imagine his panic if Tuor had lost a tooth and he had not been expecting it.) “And you know when I was _born_ , you were there!”

“Yes,” Annael agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “Would you rather celebrate the day of your birth?”

Tuor clapped his hands together gleefully. “Yes, yes! I want a party, one that I can attend when I’m only—” he paused, calculating— “eight years old, and not seventy-five!”

“Alright,” Annael decided. “You were born in the winter, near the end of the year…that is a good three months from now. I will help you plan the best party I can!”

“Thank you, Annael!” Tuor exclaimed, jumping up to hug him. Once, Annael had been uncomfortable showing such enthusiastic affection for a child not his own, but that was years past. Now, in this moment, with his fosterling beaming, he smiled too and hugged Tuor back.

As for the details of begetting—well, Annael was grateful he could put that off for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nimphiel's name means "daughter of pale white one."
> 
> Rebloggable on tumblr [here](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/629487667564904448/can-i-get-the-prompt-holidays-w-tuor-and-annael).


	2. Tuor, Annael, & Co. + Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by potatoesanddreams’ request for “Tuor, Annael & Co. + Traditions” from this [Found Family prompt list](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/629184323680124929/found-family-prompts)!

“It’s hard for us to tell, with mortals,” Annael admitted, “but you’re of an age now that you’re growing a beard, so that’s a sign of your maturity.”

Tuor scratched at the stubble on his chin a bit self-consciously. He was only thirteen; he didn’t _think_ that made him an adult, but…well, Annael was right. He’d never known any humans, and the Swan-folk didn’t know very many aside from him, and certainly not very well. He was pretty sure he still had some growing up to do, but…he did feel pretty mature. And if Annael said so, and the other leaders agreed, it must be true. He glanced to the other elves, and saw them smiling at him, nodding their heads.

“So, we have decided it is time to give you the first of your coming-of-age gifts,” Annael pronounced, and unfolded the white cloth in his lap.

Tuor gasped. “A swan-cloak?” he said reverently, reaching out to stroke the feathers softly. “But I’m…”

“Our family,” Annael said firmly, draping the sacred cloak over his shoulders. “You have been raised among us, and are a part of us. You are of the Folk of the Swan as much as any other of our children, and deserve to take part in our traditions.”

“But Nimphiel didn’t get her cloak until she was seventy-five,” Tuor whispered, awed to 

“I’ll live a lot longer than you, little Tuor,” Nimphiel said, smiling. “And it took me a lot longer to grow up.”

“I don’t think I’m done growing,” Tuor said, spinning around so his cape floated dramatically. A chuckle ran through the assembled elves, and Tuor grinned.

“Probably not,” Annael agreed. “Which is why this is only the _first_ of your gifts.”

Nimphiel sighed dramatically. “At this rate you’ll be counted as a full adult before I am,” she complained. “Don’t go getting married before me, though!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more headcanons about this: There's supposed to be three coming-of-age gifts. Tuor gets another one the night before the Easterlings attack. The first two are destroyed; he thinks he'll never get the third one, but when - eventually - he and the Gondolindrim make it to the Havens, he reunites with Annael and Nimphiel and company and they give him all three gifts at once.  
> Tuor does in fact get married before Nimphiel!  
> ...Don't ask me if Nimphiel and Annael survive the Third Kinslaying :))))
> 
> Rebloggable on tumblr [here](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/633375148161040384/tuor-annael-and-co-for-prompt-67).

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


End file.
